


Aftermath of a Long-brewing Meltdown

by felo_de_se (theUnveiled)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: Filipino
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:27:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25859695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theUnveiled/pseuds/felo_de_se
Summary: smut narrative for my socmed au na sobrang haba kaya dito na lang... :DIt's in English pero the dialogue is in Tagalog.You can read it as it, ig. The only thing you have to know is that they're law students.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Kudos: 15





	Aftermath of a Long-brewing Meltdown

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing smut. See you in hell.

The moment the door opens Akaashi pulls Bokuto by the arm and slams him against the wall, pinning him with his hands flat against the cold surface on either side of Bokuto's neck. Bokuto feels the warmth of Akaashi's harsh breaths on the outline of his jaw. There is a crease to Akaashi's eyebrows that screams disbelief and confusion as if he too does not know what he's doing. But the unnatural depth of color in Akaashi's eyes and the dilation of his pupils tell Bokuto that Akaashi knows what he's doing, or at the very least, he knows why he's doing this. 

The shadows are a sign that something is wrong. It's always the presence of the shadows that indicates something is wrong between them. The edge of the light sourced from the lone open lamp on top of the counter doesn't even touch their skin. 

The book the lamp is currently illuminating is closed. Bokuto imagines Akaashi shutting the hardcover with a thud out of frustration, a failed attempt to get a head start for their exam tomorrow. Bokuto sees the wine bottle, only partly uncorked, and the wine glass, still clean at the base. He sees the piano covers, half-pulled. Bokuto imagines Akaashi trying to distract himself and failing, trying to drown out the voices in his head with alcohol and music and failing. 

"Look at me." 

And then, Bokuto sees Akaashi again; the daze, and the haze, and the trailing of uncertainty. Akaashi's bottom lip is swollen from biting to stop himself from whimpering as he pours his heart out over the emptiness of his solitude. His entire body trembles in the coldness of his apartment and the intensity of Bokuto's gaze. 

They are so close, body pressed so intimate Bokuto can feel every button on Akaashi's dress shirt dig into his skin. His heartbeat is fast and irregular, and it pounds against his chest in time with Bokuto's own. 

"Kiss me," Akaashi murmurs into Bokuto's neck, face buried as if embarrassed of what he just asked.

Bokuto takes Akaashi's chin with a finger and pulls his head up to meet his lips. A quick peck, then Bokuto withdraws. Akaashi chases after him, tiptoeing just enough to reach. They kiss again, this time deep and fervent. 

It tastes not just like the aftermath of a long-brewing meltdown, tears still full and fresh, but also like a calmness teetering on the verge of a calamity. Bokuto does not taste the alcohol, for which he is glad. Still, there is something addicting in the way Akaashi carefully parts his lips, an implied leave for Bokuto's tongue to enter and explore. 

Akaashi does not battle for dominance. He is pliant yet strained, melting on Bokuto's arms though he obviously does not want to. He lets Bokuto have his way, the sucking, the nibbling, and the biting. He does not make a noise. Not a hitch to his breath, nor a slight tremor to his shoulders. 

There is an instability in the kiss, a slight hurry of a person in flight, a frantic search of pleasure. Bokuto wants to know why; what pushed Akaashi to seek warmth in the body of another. Fingers roam the expanse of Akaashi's chest, still clothed in thin white cotton. Bokuto rubs at the gentle curve of Akaashi's collarbone; strums the pad of his fingers along his ribs. 

Experimentally, fingernails trace the outline of the erect nubs on Akaashi's chest. Bokuto waits for a reaction. When nothing comes, he pulls from their kiss and raises an eyebrow. "Manhid?" 

Then it's Akaashi's turn to roam, hands darting underneath Bokuto's shirt without pause or hesitation. His skin touches with purpose, drawing circles where he figures Bokuto is sensitive and pressing hard where he knows Bokuto is ticklish. A moan escapes Bokuto’s lips before Akaashi quickly snatches the moment by latching his lips onto his. 

"You're not allowed to touch me," Akaashi murmurs, voice deep and tone commanding. Bokuto cannot even find it in himself to question. His hands part from Akaashi's chest to fall limp on his side. 

He moans again when Akaashi bites and tugs on his lower lip. 

Akaashi's fingers, normally warm to the touch, are pinprick cold against Bokuto's flushed skin. His thumb and forefinger find Bokuto's nipples, pinching and then freeing, pulling until Bokuto groans. Bokuto feels Akaashi's uncharacteristic grin as he kisses Bokuto deeper. Their eyes are close, but Bokuto can see the smirk shining in Akaashi's eyes as if he'd just outmaneuvered Bokuto. 

"Heh," is the only sound Akaashi makes as his hands lower, hooking a finger on the waistband on Bokuto's pants. His other hand palming the evident arousal tenting the garment. 

Bokuto's reaction comes immediately. He shrieks in surprise, breaking the kiss, "Keiji, anong ginagawa mo?" 

"Anong ginagawa ko?" Akaashi asks in return. He looks at Bokuto with wide eyes and tilted head, an expression of innocence. "Ano sa tingin mo ginagawa ko?" 

Cold air rushes through his skin when Bokuto's pants are suddenly pulled down just enough to expose him, and he shivers. Akaashi does not manage to hide his surprise when he looks down at Bokuto. 

"Ano?" Bokuto says, suddenly conscious. Because he stands with his back on the wall, panting and aroused. Because he's disheveled from Akaashi's ministrations. Because he's naked where it counts. And Akaashi remains impeccable and fully-dressed. 

"You're a big man, Koutaro," Akaashi says, and then he wraps a hand over Bokuto's entirety. 

Bokuto almost jumps, almost braces himself against Akaashi's shoulder. But the words " _you're not allowed to touch me_ " glued his hands on the cold, unfeeling wall. Akaashi does not settle on a rhythm. He strokes lazily, teasing the head only when he feels like it and pinching the base every time Bokuto starts to buck. But, Akaashi's little noises of satisfaction contribute to Bokuto's arousal.

And then, the strokes pick up in speed, acquire a rhythm suddenly too fast that it almost sends Bokuto spilling. Unable to do anything but receive, Bokuto buries his mouth on Akaashi's neck to drown out the abandoned moans, too loud that the neighbors might hear. 

Akaashi clicks his tongue in faux annoyance. "None of that, Koutaro." 

He runs his free hand through Bokuto's hair starting from his nape—gentle at first—and then he pulls hard so that Bokuto can no longer muffle his noises, exposing the long subtle curve of his neck. 

"Keiji," Bokuto says, whimpers, "Keiji." 

The pace only grows faster just as Akaashi begins to lap on Bokuto's neck, sucking on his Adam's apple, trailing hickeys down to his collarbone. 

Bokuto wonders how many times Akaashi has done this, who had been on the receiving end, but then his mind blanks and he spills with a groan on Akaashi's hand. Bokuto's knees buckle, but the hand pulling his hair and the feel of Akaashi's entire body bracing him keep him standing. 

"Keiji," Bokuto says again. 

Akaashi licks his fingers, teasingly, one by one, tongue darting to clean the white mess Bokuto left on him. 

"Let's get you to bed." 

Akaashi's soft mattress is an improvement compared to the wall, but Bokuto is still slightly confused how Akaashi manages to get on top of him every time, strip him bare before Bokuto's head hits the pillows. He now straddles Bokuto with his knees in between Bokuto's spread legs. Bokuto props himself on an elbow. 

He cannot read Akaashi's expression. He cannot see anything past the hardness in his rich green eyes. Whatever matter Akaashi cried about earlier has been forgotten, replaced by blown pupils and a raging hard-on. 

Akaashi leans down to kiss Bokuto again, but a hand to his chest stops him. 

"Keiji," Bokuto says. "Wait lang." 

Akaashi pulls back with a frown. He raises his chin slightly; an affronted challenge. "Don't you want me?" 

Bokuto smiles, softly. "Gusto kita. Alam mo naman yon. Pero hindi sa ganitong paraan." 

Akaashi's shoulders fall as if rejected, falters as he flinches. "How do you want me then?" 

There is an innocence to the tone, one that Bokuto does not expect. How long has Akaashi thought about this? He seemed to have planned out everything, from the call to the slamming to the " _you are not allowed to touch me_ ". Bokuto groans. He could still hear those words in his mind. " _Let's get you to bed._ " 

"Tell me," Akaashi says when Bokuto does not answer, "so that I can please you." 

Bokuto shifts and, with long-practiced movement, he flips their position. Akaashi gasps as he flops on the bed with little grace. Bokuto pulls his legs apart abruptly and rests Akaashi's thighs on his own. 

"Koutaro," Akaashi huffs, not expecting the suddenness of being flipped. He squirms when Bokuto sucks at the sensitive patch of skin on the crook of Akaashi's neck. 

"This isn't what you want, is it?" Bokuto says, and then he sucks harder. Redness swells, stark against milky white complexion. 

"You don't know what I want," Akaashi says, voice strained and thick with arousal. He squirms again without invitation. 

"I do," Bokuto says. He places a quick kiss on Akaashi's forehead, and then on his nose, his cheek, and on his lips. "You just want to feel." 

Bokuto pulls back. Akaashi moves to draw his neck back to where it once was, but Bokuto grabs his hands and pins his wrist above his head with a single hand. "Ang lamig mo na naman."

Akaashi glares at him. "Then, make me feel."

"I will," Bokuto says. "Ako naman, Keiji. Your hands stay right here." 

"And if they don't?" 

Bokuto does not answer. Instead, he unbuttons Akaashi's dress shirt, slowly, carefully, kissing every inch of skin as it is revealed. Here, Akaashi is warm—hot even. 

This is not how Bokuto imagines their first time will be, or if there will ever be a first. He does not expect how soft, how silent this is. Akaashi has his eyes closed, hands clawing at the headboard and looking for something to hold on to on the smooth surface. He's tense. Bokuto feels Akaashi's skin tightening at every deliberate blow of his breath, every descent of his hands. 

But, Akaashi does not cry out, no whimper, no moaning. Not even when Bokuto accidentally brushes against his erection. 

Bokuto slides Akaashi's pajamas—night sky dotted with stars as always. A slow, private disrobing as Akaashi watches Bokuto, eyes dark and wide. Curiosity graces the slight parting of his lips. When Akaashi does not argue, Bokuto slides the clothing in one swift motion, throwing it across the room. 

He crawls back up, placing a kiss on Akaashi's navel and trailing downwards, stopping only when he gets too close. His breath ghosts over Akaashi. He twitches. 

"I'm not innocent," Bokuto hears Akaashi murmurs. 

"Wala naman akong sinasabi." 

"Then, why stop?" Akaashi brings a hand down to shove it beneath his pillows. Bokuto doesn't bother pointing that Akaashi is breaking his rule. He'll be forgiving this time. 

Bokuto muses, "I'm giving you time to refuse." 

"Do I look like I want to refuse?" 

Bokuto searches Akaashi's expression for answers, the same way Akaashi does a lot of times. Akaashi sends a frustrated glare at Bokuto, eye narrowing a little. He wiggles his waist as if that will bring back Bokuto's attention to him. It does, for a moment, and then Bokuto is looking at his eyes again. 

He swears there's a bead of tears at the corner of Akaashi's eyes, but in the dim light of a single lamp, Bokuto can't be too sure. 

Yes, Bokuto wants to say, but what came out of his mouth is, "No." 

Bokuto doesn’t want to stop, but he doesn’t want to force his desires on Akaashi either. There will be plenty of time for playing after... After all of these. 

He feels the familiar feel of a foil wrapper on the back of his hand, and the impartial coldness of a small, plastic bottle. Akaashi has moved his hand down to rest over where Bokuto has placed his along Akaashi’s flank. His entire body shakes when he realizes what Akaashi is trying to give him. 

Akaashi gasps; a minuscule silent movement. He voices mumbled words. Even in the peace of the dorm room, Bokuto wouldn’t have caught it if he isn’t already looking at Akaashi’s lips. 

“Fuck me,” Akaashi says. 

Bokuto tries hard not to twitch. He exhales all the heat threatening to surge towards his nether regions. It's bad enough that he's bare naked for Akaashi to see, not a single patch of cloth for cover. It's worse now that Akaashi is almost as naked as he. Bokuto traces where the flush of skin starts and ends with his eyes, the pieces of evidence that prove Akaashi wants this right now just as much as Bokuto does, if not more. 

Akaashi is not a loud lover. He's still, almost doll-like. Not even when Bokuto pushes a lubed finger in. Not even when Bokuto pulls, in and out, in a steady rhythm. Not a single moan. Akaashi has long since returned his hand above his head. His eyes are shut, not tight, not lax, just closed. When Bokuto inserts two in, he feels the slight tremor that wracks Akaashi's entire body. Then, stillness. Again. 

Akaashi notices that Bokuto has stopped because he releases the bite on his lower lips and the strain of his shoulders relaxes. Bokuto realizes then that the Akaashi's effort of trying to control every aspect of his life does not ease even in sex. 

"Let go," Bokuto says. 

"I can't." Akaashi does not look at him. "I can't let go. I find it hard to…" 

Akaashi couldn't finish that admission. Bokuto takes him in his mouth without a word. Akaashi shouts in surprise, a high-pitched squeak that trickles down to a long, drawn-out moan. It has Bokuto grinning around Akaashi. His chuckle pulls another moan. 

Bokuto pops the length out of the heat of his mouth. "'I can't' pala ah." 

Akaashi groans. "Bastos ka." 

"Ikaw nga tong nanghila," Bokuto chuckles again before he guides Akaashi back to his mouth. 

He bobs his head in time with the motion of his fingers. Bokuto knows he’s found Akaashi's sweetest spot when the man beneath him begins to tremble. His chest rises in a beautiful arc, and he lets out a shameless whine of pleasure. Akaashi's restraint finally breaks. Bokuto inserts three. 

He scissors his fingers, fast and then slow, making sure to hit Akaashi's prostrate at erratic intervals. His mouth pulls back enough to allow him to tease the slit and circle the head, before diving down again to engulf the entire length. 

"Koutaro," Akaashi says. "I'm going to-" 

The sensation stops. Bokuto pulls his fingers completely out. He drops Akaashi from his mouth. Akaashi cries, feral and pained. 

"Please." Bokuto watches Akaashi's chest rise and fall. His hands claw at the headboard. "Please, Koutaro." 

"Tell me what you want," Bokuto says. It seems fitting to use Akaashi's words on him. "So that I can please you." 

"I don't know."

"I know you do." 

Bokuto opens the condom wrapper without waiting for an answer. He knows the answer. Akaashi needs not to express himself because Bokuto understands. He crawls upwards so he can look at Akaashi, so he can smile at him, so he can slip his fingers in between Akaashi's own. 

Finally, Akaashi's hands are warm. 

"Take me, Koutaro," Akaashi whispers. "Claim me and make me yours." 

Bokuto slides in with difficulty at first. Akaashi shudders at every press forward. But, he reminds Akaashi to breathe, to relax, to let go, and he eases up to the hilt, drowning Akaashi's hitched noises with a deep kiss. 

They move in sync, Akaashi meeting Bokuto’s slow thrusts. Heartbeats and panting, all in tandem. 

"Faster," Bokuto hears but he slows. The frustrated groan beneath him sends shivers directly southwards. 

Bokutot pauses, still inside. Akaashi squirms in his grasp and pulls at Bokuto's tight grip on his wrists. His breath rasps, like the first gulp of fresh air after drowning. When he finally composes himself, Akaashi glares with deadly intensity and a promise for vengeance. it makes Bokuto chuckle. Even for someone who's at the mercy of another, Akaashi just couldn't let go. 

Bokuto places a chaste kiss on Akaashi's cheek and nips at the tip of his ear. He whisper, voice laced with a promise of his own, "Keiji, sabi ko ako naman." 

The tremors Akaashi releases are uncontrolled. "Koutaro, please."

"Quiet, baby," Bokuto says, "I want to hear nothing but your moans." 

There is an elegance in the way Akaashi offers nothing and then everything all at once. Bokuto can only feel pride when Akaashi breaks his walls on his own to let Bokuto in, when Akaashi allows Bokuto inside him, opens for him. There are still too many variables to consider, too many facts to take in, but for now, in the dead quiet of the night before the storm, between just the two of them, _Akaashi is his_. 

He growls just that. "You're mine." 

"Say it." Bokuto's thrusts begin to shallow. Akaashi mewls when the threat of another denial dawns on him. 

"Koutaro!" Akaashi cries out, and then with a smaller voice, he repeats Bokuto's name. "Koutaro."

Bokuto tries not to lose himself in the cloud of pleasure, tries not to rut against Akaashi like an animal. That isn't what Akaashi needs. Bokuto slows again, pushing himself as deep and as controlled as he can. He dives for a kiss Akaashi is too out of it to return. 

"Koutaro." His name sounds like a prayer. 

"Say it," Bokuto says. "Tell me you're mine." 

There are tears now, freely pouring as Akaashi is reduced to a moaning chaos beneath him. This is a culmination of feelings suppressed and confusion yet unearthed. Bokuto understands. Akaashi needs a form of surrender just as much as he does. Bokuto understands. Akaashi is moved not really by want, but by his sense of necessity. 

"I want…" Akaashi's hold tightens against his. "I want to come." 

"No." A hand travels from Akaashi's wrists downwards, scraping the flushed chest Bokuto was deprived of touching earlier, now littered proofs of his ownership. "Beg for it."

Silence, and then, "I can't..."

"Then, you won't..." 

"Wait!"

The second that ticks by without movement seem so long as Akaashi swallows whatever trickle of pride remains. 

"Please, Koutaro." Something shatters behind Akaashi's eyes. "Let me come. Please."

Bokuto fucks him harder, chasing his own climax. "Come for me."

Akaashi comes untouched with a scream Bokuto almost fails to swallow with his lips, spilling all over his stomach. He wants to prolong the impression of Akaashi's unbecoming, but Bokuto's control isn't as absolute. It does not take long for him to finish. 

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot write the c-word and the d-word... I'm not sorry.
> 
> You can read the work [here.](https://twitter.com/darlingChuuya/status/1281960349390921731?s=20)


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